


Eternity Would Arise From Hope

by shatteredcrystalwings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredcrystalwings/pseuds/shatteredcrystalwings
Summary: The title of the video was in Japanese and, for a moment, he debated running it through a translator, but the thumbnail won out in the end. A still image of the same boy from the banquet, Yuuri Katsuki, captured in the middle of a motion on an ice rink. Viktor held his breath and pressed play.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A fic for which I put way too much thought into Viktor's coffee-drinking habits.

The cold spring wind, which to most across the globe would have beckoned winter, whipped Viktor’s hair up and around his face. Makkachin bounded along a few paces ahead as she enjoyed her evening walk, occasionally shoving her snout into snow drifts and coming out with a sneeze that sounded more like a huff as she apparently didn’t find whatever it was she was looking for. As he watched her, Viktor felt the soft buzz of his phone in his pocket and pulled it out, tugging off a glove with his teeth so that he could unlock the touch screen.

It was a text from Chris: four words followed by a YouTube link: “Have you seen this?”

He was about to return the device to his pocket with a slightly annoyed sigh, figuring it was probably yet another cat video, when it buzzed again and, this time, the words made his heart thrum in his ears. “Isn’t that the boy from the banquet?”

“Makkachin!” he called, his phone still clutched tight between his fingers and his voice cracking slightly, whether from excitement or nerves he wasn’t sure. “Come on, girl! Time to go home!” She bounded over, tongue lolling out happily, unaware of the sudden slew of emotions cascading through her owner.

As soon as he was through the door to his apartment he yanked the phone once again from his pocket, messing up the code to unlock it several times in his haste. But as he finally got it,his finger merely hovered over the link.

He was afraid to open it.

He had no idea what the video was of, save for the small fact that the Japanese skater, the one who had enthralled him so completely at the banquet four months prior, was in it. He had tried to find out more about the skater afterwards; he knew that the man was taking a break from the sport. What if this was a video of him announcing his retirement? How was Viktor supposed to react then? There was no reason to think that the video, whatever it contained, would be something that wouldn’t prove harmful to his already faltering mental state. 

So he waited. 

He stepped out of his shoes and shrugged off his coat, hanging it up as he walked to the kitchen and placed the phone on the counter carefully, as if it was a precious thing. Forcing himself to work at a normal speed, he pressed the button on his coffee grinder, listening to the ear grating whir of the espresso beans as he glanced halfheartedly at the clock on the wall which read a time much too late to be ingesting caffeine. It didn’t matter much, he supposed, going through the motions of preparing his usual latte. He was already sleeping fitfully and too long, how much damage could one cup of coffee do to what was already broken? He watched the espresso pour slowly into the cup below as he steamed the milk, like watching sand flow through an hourglass. With the drink done, he paced over to sit with the hot cup in his hands, barely paying attention to how the liquid scorched its way down his throat as he stared at the phone laying just out of his reach.

With his self control beginning to wane, he snatched up the phone as soon as the last of the coffee was gone, not bothering to put away the soiled cup as he made his way with slightly hurried steps to the couch where Makkachin was napping. He sat upright for a moment before deciding instead to put his feet up, the dog rearranging herself to snuggle him, and he fiddled with the curls in her fur as he finally unlocked the phone and thumbed the link.

The title of the video was in Japanese and, for a moment, he debated running it through a translator to further delay watching, but the thumbnail won out in the end. A still image of the same boy from the banquet, Yuuri Katsuki, captured in the middle of a motion on an ice rink. He held his breath and pressed play.

The video was shaky, obviously shot on a smartphone by unpracticed hands, following Yuuri as he skated to the center of the ice. He was clad in sweatpants and sweater which, although baggy, didn’t hide the fact that he had gained some weight since the last time Viktor had seen him, his face now rounder and softer looking as an expression of nervousness hung on it. Once at center ice, that same face dropped as Yuuri held a stance that made Viktor’s heart flutter in his chest, questioning the familiarity of it.

And then he began to skate, and it felt as if time had stopped. It was Viktor’s program. It was Stammi Vicino. No music accompanied it, but it wasn’t needed. It felt as if the music was emanating from Yuuri’s body itself as he went through the same movements Viktor had skated so many times, the quad lutz and flip changed to triples but otherwise a perfect copy.

Despite not having paid Yuuri much mind during the actual competition, Viktor had looked up videos of him following the events of the banquet. He was good, but never before had Viktor seen from him a performance like  _ this _ . Yuuri’s words from the banquet, asking him to become his coach, seemed to echo in his ears. He had known at the time that Yuuri was drunk and probably didn’t mean it, but even so he had given the man his phone number, had waited for days, weeks, expecting a call or even a text only to receive nothing.

Had Yuuri decided he didn’t want anything to do with Viktor, he had wondered.

Had he simply lost the number or had he made the conscious decision not to contact him?

Viktor hadn’t known what to make of it when he found out Yuuri had all but dropped out of competitions. 

And now there was this video. This video of Yuuri skating Viktor’s routine with perfection. And as the video neared its end, the last words of the song seemed to ring louder than any call or text would have. 

_ “Let’s leave together. I’m ready now.” _

This was the answer Viktor had spent so long waiting for. 

**Author's Note:**

> In episode 1, you can see that Viktor has an espresso machine yet no regular coffee maker. There's no sign of a grinder but he definitely seems like the type to be pretentious enough to grind his own beans and I put way too much time into thinking about this
> 
> hmu on Tumblr (nonbinary-shinji) or Twitter (bizarrequazar) :D


End file.
